


"Traditions" and "Something to Remember": Two VVS7.5 Short Subjects

by juli17ptf, Penny_P, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [36]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Tree, Early Days, F/M, Memorials, Museums, Space Flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 08:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juli17ptf/pseuds/juli17ptf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: Summary: "Traditions" by Julie:A former member ofVoyager'screw revives old traditions to celebrate the holiday season on New Pojza, in The Shire. (original publication date: 12/23/2002)Summary: "Something to Remember" by Penny:Naomi Wildman's visit to a museum reminds her of the sacrifices made by those who first dared to reach for the stars. (original publication date: 2/3/2003)





	1. "Traditions"

**Author's Note:**

> A note from Julie: This story takes place near the end of the "Reconstruction Blues" period. The correct pronunciation of Pojza is "Poy-zha." Thank you to my co-writers at Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 for another year of great enjoyment! And thank you to Christina and Janet for their beta assistance on this story.

VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5 episode 36a  


**Traditions****:** **A Reconstruction Blues Interlude**  


**by Julie**

  
  
**The Shire, in the Delta Quadrant New Pojza-Year 2, Day 238/Earth-Dec 24, 2380/Galactic Stardate-56980.4 **  
  
The woods were quiet as Annika followed the path that led away from one of New Pojza's shires-the small villages originally settled by the Pojzan refugees. Most of the Pojzan still maintained sleeping rooms underground in the rocky bluff adjacent to the shire, even though the threat of radiation from the nearby nebula had been eliminated. The planetary radiation shield had been installed several months earlier. The newer colonists, most of them former Borg, had settled among the Pojzan, building houses next to the Shire, or in the wooded area just beyond as Axum and she had done. The walk home was short, no more than three or four minutes, but Annika enjoyed the brief solitude, perhaps because it was so brief.  
  
Her life was busy and productive. That suited her. She was needed here, as was everyone. There was much that needed to be done on a new colony planet, and the woman who had once been called Seven of Nine willingly took on her share of responsibility for ensuring its success. Annika worked with a team of engineers, both Pojzan and former Borg, who had designed the radiation shield; and she was involved in a dozen more engineering projects in progress. Yet that was not her only role here. She was also a teacher.  
  
It had been Selea, her Betazoid friend, who had convinced Annika of that unexpected aptitude. Selea had been a teacher and child psychologist before her assimilation. Like many others, on New Pojza she had elected to return to her former profession, willingly relegating the disciplines of hard science and engineering to those who had followed that calling even before being forced into it by the Borg, and to those, like Annika, who had been assimilated too young to know any other way.  
  
But Selea had also insisted Annika reach into herself to discover the untapped talents and strengths of her human heritage. Annika had connected with some of the children here who'd been so lost after being freed from the Collective, able to draw from her own experience, and from her time with Icheb, Mezoti and the twins. She had tutored the children on _Voyager_ seeing it as no more than another duty Captain Janeway had assigned to her when she gave her the responsibility of supervising them. But Selea's persistence had led her to the realization that she had a unique ability to relate to children and to teach them, particularly those who had once been Borg. Even more surprising was the realization that she enjoyed it immensely. Each afternoon she taught them the fundamentals of mathematics and science, while also offering guidance and support to those still coming to terms with their newfound individuality.  
  
The thinning of pine trees told Annika that she was approaching her home, and Axum's. The trees on New Pojza were smaller and shorter than the pine Talltrees Axum recalled from his home planet, but he had been attracted by their similarity. Upon seeing these woods for the first time, Annika had recalled fragmented memories of the pine forests of Scandinavia, where she had spent time as a very young child with her parents and aunt. This area had seemed an auspicious place for their new home.  
  
The house they had built together also united their memories of their pre-Borg existence, and, in her case, her life on _Voyager_. The great "gathering" room contained the traditional central circular fireplace of a Drasadi home, with low, curved sofas surrounding it, their soft cushions inviting repose around the fire. The bedroom they shared was furnished in a manner reminiscent of her aunt's home--as well as Annika could recall it--with a wide bed and tall bureau. The kitchen was more functional, based closely upon the Mess Hall of _Voyager, _as it had become thanks to Neelix's "refinements."  
  
As a whole, the design of their house was an eclectic, even chaotic, mix of styles. Despite its lack of harmonious aesthetics, the sight of the wide windows and sloping roof always warmed Annika when the house came into view. As she stepped into the clearing, her lips curved into a small smile as she anticipated her quiet, companionable evening with Axum. Then she stopped, her mouth dropping slightly open in surprise at the sight that greeted her.  
  
Half a dozen pine trees grew close around the house, with the largest and fullest one standing in front, separated from the others as if aware of its more noble status. At the moment, its entire five meter height was illuminated with hundreds of colored lights--red, green, blue and yellow--their brightness piercing the deep twilight afforded by the clouds which obscured the great nebula that stretched overhead. On the topmost branch was a brilliantly lit white star.  
  
Annika stared at the tree for several moments, transfixed, before she continued forward. Though the windows of the house glowed with warm light, Axum was outside on the _akeva_\--or verandah, as it was called on Earth. He was holding two mugs in his hands. Steam rose from both in white wisps that dispersed into the chilly air.  
  
Annika stepped onto the _akeva_ and lifted one eyebrow, her silent version "explain," or, "this had better be good," as Axum had once laughingly put it. The gesture always brought a twitch to Axum's lips, though she did not quite understand the perceived humor.  
  
His lips twitched now as he handed her one of the mugs. She wrapped her hands around it, relishing the warmth. The steam wafted toward her face, and she could smell the unmistakable scents of cinnamon and cloves, as well as something stronger.  
  
"It is Glogg," Axum said. "A traditional drink in the Scandinavian region of Earth, typically imbibed on this date. I found the recipe in the _Voyager _database. I hope I got it right."  
  
Upon her departure from _Voyager,_ Captain Janeway had presented Annika with several items, including a replicator and a set of data chips containing the entire cultural database of the Federation as well as everything the _Voyager _crew had compiled on the Delta Quadrant during their journey. That had included Neelix's extensive recipe collection. She took an experimental sip of the hot liquid, and her eyes widened. It was quite potent.  
  
"The original recipe contains alcohol, but this version does not, nor does it contain synthehol," Axum said, aware of her inability to tolerate either well. "I approximated the chemical composition and flavor."  
  
"It is...interesting," Annika said, cautiously taking another sip. She decided Axum's approximation must be close, because the drink delivered a "kick," as Lieutenant Paris might have put it. She could not comment on the authenticity of the beverage. Since she had been a young child the last time she'd been on Earth, she would not have partaken of an alcoholic beverage. She focused on another subject instead. "The tree is beautiful."  
  
Axum beamed at her compliment, which was why Annika had offered it. The tree _was_ aesthetically pleasing, but not as pleasing as Axum's gratified expression.  
  
"When I realized this was the most important holiday in your home region on Earth, I researched everything I could find out about it." Axum waved his free hand toward the tree. "I wanted to surprise you."  
  
"You succeeded," Annika assured him. She had been aware of the date on Earth, as her sense of time was remarkably accurate. She was also aware of the significance of the date, though that significance was more relevant to some of her former _Voyager_ crewmates than it was to her, especially now that they were back in the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
"It's not just this tree," Axum said, smiling expectantly. "There is more inside."  
  
In Drasadi tradition, there were no coverings over the windows of the Great Room. Annika looked through the clear glass, noticing for the first time that a fire was blazing in the central fireplace. That was not unusual, but just visible beyond the surrounding sofas stood a pine tree, much smaller than the majestic one outside, its branches thick but unadorned. On the varnished wood floor next to the tree was a pile of brightly colored ribbons and paper, along with some shiny red items she could not immediately identify, although she assumed they were ornaments. She wondered how Axum could have possibly arranged all this without her knowledge-  
  
"That tree we can decorate together," Axum said. "It is traditional to do so on Christmas Eve. I decided on the red ornaments because that is the main color of a Scandinavian Christmas. Appropriate, don't you think?"  
  
Annika started to reply, but her nose wrinkled as a suspicious aroma reached her, overriding the spices in the Glogg and the ever-present scent of pine. "Do I smell something...burning?"  
  
"Oh!" Axum set his cup of Glogg on the railing. "Wait here!"  
  
Annika considered following Axum into the house, but he emerged again less than a minute later, with a sheepish look on his face. "That batch is a little well done," he said. "But don't worry, the other three batches turned out perfectly."  
  
"Batches?" Annika asked.  
  
"Of almond horn cookies. I haven't gotten to the gingerbread yet. Neelix had quite a number of Christmas recipes. Oh, and I also downloaded a music file called 'Neelix's Christmas Carols, One.' There were several additional files--two through sixteen--but I thought this one might suffice."  
  
Annika watched, bemused, as Axum activated the remote audio controller. She recalled Neelix's enthusiasm for all holidays; and the fact that when he undertook a project, he completed it with exhaustive detail. Apparently Axum was the same. Strains of music drifted from the outside speakers, and she recognized the tune about a one horse open sleigh riding through the snow. She shook her head. "Axum, this is...remarkable. But it wasn't necessary for you to go to all this trouble."  
  
"Of course it was," Axum said. "Now that we're all settled in, we've agreed that it's important to revive some of our native traditions."  
  
He was referring to the now nearly three thousand former drones who had found a home here among the Pojzan. During the first year, they had focused primarily on erecting permanent homes and community structures, increasing food production, and assisting new colonists. They arrived in both Pojzan and non-Pojzan vessels, often damaged from clashes with renegade Borg ships or local pirates, and low on supplies. In recent months, the arrivals had dwindled to a trickle, and life for the colonists had settled into a more normal routine. With that, the former drones from a dozen different worlds had begun to follow the example of the Pojzan, reviving cultural customs and traditions they recalled from the days before they had been assimilated. The Borg might have ripped them from their original homes, and in some cases destroyed those homes, as Evrim--one of Axum's fellow Drasadi--had noted, but the Borg couldn't destroy their customs and traditions as long as they remembered them.  
  
"Annika." Axum's hand brushed hers. "You helped me perform the rituals of the Drasadi Rite of Autumn Harvest. I wanted to do the same in return, even if you didn't ask me to share this with you."  
  
Annika sensed the slightest rebuke in Axum's tone. She stiffened. "I wish to share _all_ my life with you, Axum. We are planning Prixin together, are we not?"  
  
"Yes. I do look forward to celebrating Prixin with you, Annika, and with most of the Shire." His lips quirked. "Thanks to you and the Talaxians, it will probably become the first fully shared holiday on New Pojza."  
  
That was Annika's desire. A dozen or so Talaxians had managed to escape from the Borg on Axum's ship along with them and were now residing in the First Shire. They had celebrated the Prixin holiday the previous year in abbreviated fashion. This year, there was even greater anticipation for the holiday. Several more Talaxians had joined the colony since then, and some were adolescents who had been assimilated as infants or toddlers. This would be the first holiday they would remember. Many of the Pojzan, who venerated family and enjoyed celebrations with the same ardor as Talaxians, had asked to join with their neighbors and observe the full eight days of Prixin festivities that would begin in another two weeks. Axum, Annika, and many others had been invited to participate as a result. It seemed appropriate to her. That holiday had become symbolic of disparate people joining together in the Delta Quadrant and forging common bonds.  
  
"I know Prixin became a tradition on _Voyager_," Axum said. "But it _is_ a Talaxian holiday, not an Earth holiday."  
  
Annika frowned. "I understand your desire to recapture traditions, Axum, but I do not remember Earth as you do Drasada."  
  
Axum nodded, his blue eyes sympathetic. "I know you were very young when you were assimilated, but your culture, the culture of your parents and your ancestors, is part of what makes you _you._ What makes Annika Hansen a unique individual. It may have been buried for a time by the Borg, but they couldn't take away your birthright, or your first years and all your parents instilled in you then."  
  
"I had not considered it in that light," Annika admitted. She was aware that early childhood was the most impressionable period of development and socialization. She didn't doubt that parts of her personality--like the uncommon stubbornness Axum sometimes accused her of--had come from her parents, even if she could barely remember them. She did value her few childhood memories, but though she had tried with limited success to overcome the Borg desire for perfection in all endeavors, the incompleteness of her conscious recall was often a source of frustration. But for Axum's sake, she would try.  
  
"I do remember some things," she said. As she looked at the tree Axum had decorated, she saw another tree in a cozy, wood-paneled room that had seemed to her young eyes immense in size, though it had certainly been much smaller than this one now in front of her. "I remember a tree with twinkling lights, but I do not know if it was at my parent's home or at my aunt's. I also remember gathering pine cones with my father..." For a moment she could hear the sound of her father's booming laugh echoing in the forest stillness as she stomped in the snow, trying to match the deep prints made by his booted feet with her own much smaller snow boots.  
  
Another image came to her, one she'd seen before, of her mother bending over her, golden hair shining, and blue eyes soft with emotion as she stroked her daughter's brow. "I remember my mother singing a Christmas carol to me. It was called 'Silent Night.' "  
  
Axum immediately picked up the audio remote and activated the viewscreen. He scrolled through the titles until he found the right one. A moment later the music changed, and a female voice began to sing in a clear soprano, "Silent night, holy night..."  
  
They listened for several minutes. Like much of her childhood that Annika had so far recalled, this small bit of her memory had resurfaced on _Voyager_, during a Christmas Eve gathering Tom Paris had arranged in a simulated mountain lodge on the holodeck.  
  
"Christmas must have been celebrated on _Voyager_," Axum said, as if he had read her thoughts. "Most of the crew was human."  
  
"Not all humans celebrate Christmas," Annika replied. "But on _Voyager_, quite a few observed the holiday."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
Axum knew she had held herself apart from the rest of those on _Voyager_ at first, preferring to focus on her duty and disdaining activities that were unproductive. Holiday celebrations had been no exception. She had found them to be frivolous, and a waste of resources. Christmas had been even more incomprehensible to her than most holidays. The history of the holiday was filled with inconsistencies, from the conflicting mix of religious origins in many of the traditions and the later addition of secular icons, to its eventual transformation into a time to gather in social communion and celebrate peaceful accord on Earth, regardless of one's devotion to the original religious observance.  
  
"I did not participate immediately," Annika finally said. "The second year I was on _Voyager, _Naomi Wildman insisted that I assist her and Neelix in decorating the Mess Hall."  
  
"So you've been holding out on me!" Axum accused, though he was smiling. "You do know how to 'trim' a tree."  
  
"I only observed that process," Annika said. She had also suggested using half the available ornaments and placing them exactly two point six centimeters apart from each other in all directions, to achieve optimal balance and symmetry. Neelix had scoffed at that suggestion, allowing Naomi to place all the ornaments in spots of her own choosing. Once the heaping globs of tinsel were tossed on, the finished tree had looked lopsided and garish. Yet there had been something appealing about it--and in Naomi's proud smile at her handiwork. "That Christmas I joined in and watched Naomi open her gifts from everyone. Eventually, I began attending some of the holiday functions organized by Neelix and others. Naomi's enthusiasm and the enjoyment the crew found in such rituals did allow me to see that there were...emotionally satisfying aspects to such traditional celebrations."  
  
"Why am I not surprised you learned that message from a child?" Axum asked gently.  
  
"I have found that children teach as often as they learn," Annika said. Naomi had taught her much, as had Icheb and the other children on _Voyager_. She looked inadvertently up at the sky, though there was nothing to see but clouds.  
  
"On Earth right now it is Christmas Eve," Axum said, seeming to read her thoughts again. "I suppose many of your friends from _Voyager_ are celebrating there."  
  
"On some parts of Earth it is Christmas Day," Annika corrected him. "And not everyone from _Voyager_ presently resides on Earth."  
  
Axum shrugged, and smiled. "Close enough, considering."  
  
_Considering their distance from the Alpha Quadrant,_ Annika thought. Five months ago she had received a message from Harry Kim. The _Enterprise_ had been on a long range mission, and Harry had found a way to access the datastream for a brief time. Thus she had learned of _Voyager's_ safe return to Earth, which had pleased her, though she'd expected that the determination of the crew would eventually lead to that result. She had learned of the attendant honors and parades, as well as Captain Janeway's hearing and acquittal. In some ways she was gratified that the captain had subsequently taken a teaching position, for it gave her a sense of commonality with her former mentor, even though she believed Kathryn Janeway was most suited to commanding a starship. She was also gratified that the captain had finally acknowledged her feelings for Commander Chakotay--ex-Commander, that is, since Chakotay had left Starfleet to pursue his doctorate--as Tuvok had left to reunite with his family on Vulcan. Neither development had surprised her.  
  
Harry had also informed her that construction was beginning on a second ship to be called _Voyager_, and that Lieutenant Commander Torres continued to pursue a working transwarp coil. She was now stationed at Utopia Planitia with Lieutenant Paris and their daughter. Given B'Elanna Torres's remarkable tenacity, Annika was certain she would succeed sooner or later. At that point, the distances between the Delta Quadrant and the Alpha Quadrant would become relative.  
  
"Naomi may be decorating a tree right now," Axum mused.  
  
"Perhaps so," Annika said, though Naomi would not be with her parents. According to Harry, Sam Wildman and her husband had gone on a yearlong mission to the Gamma Quadrant, while Naomi had remained at Starfleet Academy. This Christmas, Naomi would probably be staying at the Paris home, which was also Icheb's home now.  
  
"You miss them sometimes." It was a statement rather than a question, and Axum's expression was empathetic. "If the transwarp project is successful you may see them again in the not very distant future."  
  
"I will be gratified if that occurs," Annika said. Her Glogg had gone cold. She placed her cup on the railing, then crossed her arms tightly and suppressed a shiver. The air was getting colder. "In the meantime, I am content here."  
  
Axum immediately wrapped his arms around her. "Perhaps we should go in," he suggested.  
  
Annika snuggled against Axum. Though it was a less efficient method of heat conduction than adding layers of clothing or retreating indoors and setting the thermostat to a suitable temperature, it was infinitely more pleasurable. "Let's stay out here a few more minutes," she murmured, as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I am warm now, and still content."  
  
Axum chuckled softly, and Annika raised her head. She pressed her lips briefly against his, silencing his mirth. "If I have not yet said thank you for doing this..."  
  
"You just did."  
  
Annika smiled, and brushed a small bit of lint off his dark jacket. Another speck appeared near the same spot, and she realized it wasn't lint. She raised her head and stared up at the sky. Scattered white flakes of snow fell from the near total darkness of the cloud cover, floating softly and silently to the ground. Although they had experienced icy rains here last winter, this was the first time for snow.  
  
"Snow," Axum said with astonishment, as he held out his hand and watched several flakes land lightly on his palm. Then he looked at her mischievously. "It is an important element of a traditional Christmas, is it not?"  
  
Annika scoffed at Axum's insinuation that he had manufactured a natural occurrence. It was a mere coincidence that snow was falling in conjunction with the current date on Earth, particularly since New Pojza orbited its sun in only three hundred and twelve days. Next year on the Earth date of December 24 it would already be early spring here. Yet Annika couldn't help feeling a small sense of wonder at the sight.  
  
Momentarily enthralled, they watched the snow falling on the ground and clinging to the branches of the pines. They both became aware, at the same moment, of the two figures walking out of the woods. Annika recognized Selea immediately, and as soon as they moved closer, the smaller, slighter figure walking next to her as well. Talya was one of the children they taught.  
  
"Selea," Axum greeted the dark-haired woman. "It's a little cold to be walking out here tonight."  
  
Selea shrugged. "I grew up in the mountains. I'm used to cold and snow."  
  
Talya's eyes had been on the falling snow, her expression as awed as Axum's, until she noticed the decorated pine tree.  
  
"A Christmas tree," Selea said, her gaze on the tree also. "I remember seeing those in San Francisco. I always thought it was a lovely tradition. Talya, Christmas is an Earth holiday. That's where Annika comes from, in the Alpha Quadrant."  
  
"Is it like Prixin?" Talya asked.  
  
"It is similar in that family and community are integral to the celebration," Selea said.  
  
"And the music is part of the celebration also?"  
  
A low rendition of "Silver Bells" spilled out from the speakers. "Yes," Annika answered as her eyes met Talya's. The girl quickly averted her gaze, staring at the ground, her heavy auburn hair falling over her face.  
  
"What has happened?" Annika asked, noting Talya's sudden consternation and curious to know why Selea had come here tonight when her home was on the other side of the Shire.  
  
"Talya got into a fight with Dustan and Zirel," Selea said. "They were teasing her."  
  
Talya was one of the brightest children in the First Shire, but she could also be quick-tempered. Like Dustan and Zirel, she was nearing puberty. Annika had learned from her association with Naomi that that phase of development was rife with insecurities, and in Talya's case, exacerbated by her struggle to adapt to her individuality after being assimilated as a toddler.  
  
"Physical altercations are not the way to settle disagreements," Annika told Talya.  
  
Talya's green eyes flashed. "They called me 'stupid.' I am not stupid!"  
  
"Certainly not," Annika agreed. "To come to such an insupportable conclusion indicates that their intelligence is vastly inferior to yours. Knowledge of your superiority should negate any need or desire to fight with those less worthy than you."  
  
Talya looked thoughtful at that, and Axum said, "I don't know about Zirel, since he is Norcadian, but Dustan is Drasadi; and when a Drasadi boy calls a girl 'stupid,' it's a certain sign that he likes her."  
  
"It is?" Talya asked. Then she snorted. "That's a silly way to show it."  
  
"Children are inherently irrational," Annika said. "Particularly boys."  
  
Axum gave her a sideways look as Selea chuckled. Annika had no factual foundation for that statement, but she had learned that such provocative statements often elicited an enjoyably spirited debate with her mate.  
  
"After the altercation, I suggested Talya might want to visit you and spend the night, to put some distance between her and the boys. But I don't want to interrupt your celebration."  
  
"Nonsense," Axum said to Selea. "Talya is welcome to stay and celebrate with us." He smiled at the girl. "We still have to decorate the tree inside the house, and to bake more cookies."  
  
"I don't know anything about decorating a tree," Talya said, though she looked eager to learn.  
  
"I'm just learning myself," Axum assured her. "It's an old holiday on Earth, but for our family it's a new tradition. And you can be part of it."  
  
Talya's face lit up. "I can?"  
  
"Of course. Why don't we go in and get started right now. You can help me put in the next batch of cookies."  
  
Talya practically ran up the _akeva_ steps as Axum's eyes met Annika's. He leaned over and brushed his lips across hers. "We'll be inside, starting Christmas. See you in a minute."  
  
"Merry Christmas to you, Axum," Selea said with a twinkle in her eyes.  
  
Axum grinned. "And to you, Selea."  
  
"I think Talya is almost ready to be part of a family," Selea said as she watched Axum disappear into the house with Talya.  
  
"Perhaps," Annika said. She had not missed Talya's delight at Axum's invitation to join in the holiday celebration. Most of the children rescued from the Borg had originally been housed together to alleviate the sense of isolation that often overwhelmed them after they were severed from the Collective. As they'd regained their sense of individuality, some had bonded with adults in the Shire and had been adopted into more traditional family units. Not all of the children wished for this outcome, since they still drew support from each other, but many did, with time.  
  
"Talya has only been here six months," she added. Six months after she'd been severed from the Collective, Annika had still been confused and uncomfortable with her individuality. She could not even think of herself as simply Seven, but clung to her identity as Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One.  
  
"Everyone adjusts at a different pace," Selea said. "She has begun to celebrate her independence, and to form strong bonds with adults."  
  
"She has formed one with you," Annika said.  
  
Selea nodded. "She has. She feels close to you as well. And she likes Axum. No doubt Talya would be a challenge. She is intelligent and resourceful, but she is also obstinate and certain that she is always right. She reminds me of someone."  
  
Annika saw the shrewd look in Selea's eyes. "Perhaps it is Axum."  
  
Selea laughed. "It's not Axum. Anyway, it was just a thought. I have to go. Evrim is expecting me, and I'm already late." She grinned at Annika's raised eyebrow. "I know, three nights in one week. It could be getting serious. No classes tomorrow, so I'll see you the next day. Oh, and Merry Christmas."  
  
Selea was moving away as she spoke. Annika barely had time to wave to her before the Betazoid disappeared into the trees. Annika looked back at the open door. Inside it looked warm and inviting, and over the low music she could hear Talya's burst of laughter coming from the kitchen. She wondered what Axum would think of Selea's not very subtle suggestion. Though they had discussed having a baby should her fertility be restored, they had not yet considered adopting a child here, to raise and parent as their own.  
  
Perhaps they had simply been waiting for the right child to join their family. That was an intriguing thought, and one worthy of further consideration. She suspected Axum would agree. She would bring the subject up after they had settled Talya into the second bedroom for the night.  
  
Smiling, Annika started to enter the house. Then she stopped and looked up at the sky. The snow continued to fall in the same slow pattern. If one was imaginative one could perceive the snowflakes as stars falling out of the sky. Annika did not consider herself to be imaginative. It was simply snow, and beyond that, the glowing gases of the nebula. Much further, through thousands of light years of Delta Quadrant space, beyond the galactic center, and past thousands of more light years of Alpha Quadrant space, was the Federation, where those from _Voyager_ now resided.  
  
It was Christmas on Earth, and to those who had dispersed from there to other parts of the galaxy. Though she wasn't imaginative, she could deduce most likely scenarios, and Annika considered them now.  
  
Kathryn Janeway was with Chakotay, probably sitting together in front of a fire at their apartment in San Francisco, drinking hot coffee--the real thing--as carols played in the background, smiling at each other, as they were apt to do. Tuvok was on Vulcan, not celebrating the Earth holiday, but no doubt mindful of it after his long association with humans, celebrating instead each day with the family from whom he had been separated for eight years.  
  
Harry Kim was on the _Enterprise_, perhaps at a crew party similar to those that had transpired on _Voyager, _enjoying laughter and music with his new crewmates while thinking fondly of his old ones_._  
  
Neelix and Sarexa, though not native of Earth, would have adopted the customs of their new home, as Neelix readily adopted the customs of all those he called friends. Their doors were open as they happily entertained those who came to view the most ostentatiously decorated home in New Orleans.  
  
Meanwhile, the doctor--or Mark Lewis, as he now called himself--was bickering good-naturedly with his creator Lewis Zimmerman over any aspect of the holiday that might come up for discussion, with Reg Barclay and Lewis's protégée Haley mediating, sometimes exasperatedly, but all accepting and enjoying each other’s company nonetheless.  
  
As for Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres, they were sharing in their young daughter's delight at the bright lights and decorations, helping her place ornaments on the tree, and introducing her to their traditions. Sharing the moment were Tom's parents and Icheb, abandoned by his birth parents, but who was now surrounded and welcomed by his adoptive family. A family defined by its ability to expand and include others in its embrace, like Naomi. That was the best definition of a family she could devise.  
  
Annika smiled, unabashed by her musings, or by her next words. "Merry Christmas," she said softly to the sky, and to those she was sure she would see again one day. Then she walked through the door, to her own family. The concept was appealing.  
  
Inside the house, the fire flickered. The warm light enveloped the occupants as they celebrated Christmas in the Delta Quadrant, combining old traditions with new. Outside, the lights of the decorated tree illuminated the snow as it drifted down, while the words of a song floated over the white-covered ground...

_  
"...Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow.  
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,  
and have yourself a merry little Christmas now."  
_  
  
Finis_._  
  


  
  
"Traditions" was first published on 12/23/2002, with the following tag:  
  
_A message to our readers: From the Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 team to you, your friends, and your families--Merry Christmas, Happy Prixin, and may you find joy and togetherness in all the holidays and traditions you celebrate._  
  
Whether you have read this story during a holiday season or at any other time of the year, our staff's wishes for you remain the same.  
  


  
_ ** (On to "Something to Remember" by Penny)** _


	2. "Something to Remember"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naomi Wildman's visit to a museum reminds her of the sacrifices made by those who first dared to reach for the stars. (original publication date: 2/3/2003)

**Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 -- Episode 36b**

**Something to Remember**

  
**By Penny**  
  


**_Bozeman, Montana--Saturday, May 2, 2381--Stardate 57334.1_**  
  
It was spring on the North American continent of the planet Earth, and there were many places a young cadet with a weekend pass could go to have a little fun. In Naomi Wildman's mind, the Cochrane Museum of Space Flight was not on the list. Unfortunately for her, it was on the top of the list of her two closest friends, Icheb Paris and Griff Harley.  
  
"Aw, come on," Griff had wheedled. "The Phoenix Exhibit will only be open another six weeks. They're going to close it for maintenance for two whole years."  
  
"Maybe we should come back then, when it's all fixed up," she had suggested reasonably.  
  
"In two years, we may well be on training flights and unable to return," Icheb pointed out. "We should go while we have the opportunity. Don't you want to see the first warp ship developed by your people?  
  
"I've seen pictures," she said. "Since nobody uses engines that can't exceed warp 1 anymore, I think that’s enough.”  
  
"It'll be fun," Griff insisted.  
  
"It's not even a major museum,” Naomi argued. “If you want to see old stuff instead of hiking or going to the beach, why don't we go to the Museum of Federation History in Paris?"  
  
"Because the Phoenix Exhibit is in Montana." Icheb studied her for a moment. "If we go to the museum on Saturday, we can still go to Paris on Sunday."  
  
She couldn't come up with a decent objection to that, and so here she was, wandering the aisles of a building filled with obsolete mechanical stuff from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. The building wasn't big, but it was crammed with old engines and engine parts and even cut-open sections of rockets. Rockets! Naomi was fascinated by _modern_ technology; this antique stuff simply did not interest her.  
  
They were wandering on their own, although an elderly docent in a maroon vest had offered to show them around. They waved her off; the boys wanted to take everything in at their own pace. The place was arranged so that _Phoenix_ itself was the culmination of the tour, with everything that Sloane and Cochrane did to develop the warp engine on display first. Griff and Icheb seemed determined to linger over every last little bit of scrap metal that was on display.  
  
For five minutes, the boys stood in front of a two-meter cut-away section of some kind of torpedo. Five minutes. Naomi knew, because she timed them. Finally, she said, "Uh, guys? Can we step it up? The _Phoenix_ is waiting."  
  
"Yeah, just a minute," Griff said without looking at her. He pointed to something in the rocket. "But they were still trying hypergolic fuel. See? That has to be the missing chamber."  
  
"Icheb?"  
  
"I thought they had switched to solid propellants," Icheb said.  
  
Naomi frowned. "I'm going to faint now."  
  
"I thought so, too, but how else do you explain--"  
  
"Oh, never mind," Naomi said. Clearly, neither Icheb nor Griff were listening to her. And clearly, they weren't going to cooperate with her plan to move briskly through the exhibits. She shook her head and continued down the aisle.  
  
An arched opening appeared suddenly on her right. It was unmarked and so small she almost missed it, and the room beyond was so dimly lit that she couldn't tell what it held. Still, it was open to the public. Curious, she turned and wandered inside.  
  
The only light in the room was at the back wall. A banner stretched across it, deep blue with gold lettering. "Earth First Reaches for the Stars, 1957 - 2007," it read. Beneath it, something that looked like a cargo barrel made of thin metal sat on a pedestal, illuminated from below. A placard identified it as "Gemini Capsule." Darkened console screens waited for activation along another wall.  
  
Naomi frowned. She wasn't the least bit interested in that period. Early warp era was bad enough, but pre-warp space travel was too primitive to be relevant. Maybe an engineering historian-type would be interested, but she was more interested in developing new technologies than mooning over outdated ones.  
  
As she turned to go, she noticed that one wall was still in shadows. There was something on it, or more precisely, several somethings, but she couldn't tell what they were. Pictures? Wall monitors? Curiosity got the better of her, and she walked over.  
  
She was only a meter from the wall before something finally activated. In the center of the wall, a large panel suddenly lit and became visible. In flowing golden letters, she read, "_We know they did not safely return to Earth. We pray they made it safely home._"  
  
She had barely finished reading when the wall in front of her suddenly became alive. Beside the panel, a large portrait suddenly appeared, showing a woman with curling brown hair and a warm smile. Beneath the picture, the words "I touch the future, I teach," appeared, only to be replaced by "Christa McAuliffe, 1948-1986. Crew of the Space Shuttle _Challenger_."  
  
The McAuliffe portrait faded, and another appeared on the other side. Another woman, wearing an orange flight suit. "Kalpana Chawla, 1961-2003. Crew of the Shuttle _Columbia_."  
  
Then another face appeared, that of a young man trying to look older than his years. "Valentin Vasiliyevich Bondarenko. 1937 - 1961. Soviet Sochi Six Cosmonaut. Test Chamber fire."  
  
"Ah," said someone standing behind her, and Naomi jumped, startled. "Computer, pause display. I see you've found the Wall of Heroes."  
  
Turning, Naomi saw she had been joined by the docent they had dismissed earlier. She was almost exactly the same height as Naomi, although her hunched shoulders gave the impression that she had once been taller. "We don't get many cadets wandering in here," the woman went on. "It's not very glamorous."  
  
"It's hard to find," Naomi said. "I almost missed it."  
  
The old woman nodded. "I know. It's just a small corner of history. In the grand scheme of things, fifty years is nothing. And yet, " she turned around slowly, her arms taking in the entire room. "In 1957, humankind had never left the planet. The steam engine had been around for only a hundred and fifty years or so, the combustion engine a little less than a century, and flight had been achieved exactly fifty-four years earlier. Walk around this room and consider everything they accomplished in just fifty years."  
  
Naomi smiled, and touched the patch on her uniform. "_Ex astris, scientia_." It was the motto of Starfleet Academy.  
  
"_From_ the stars, knowledge." The docent regarded her soberly. "But back then, back when all this was new, the motto was _'Ad astra per aspera.'_ _To_ the stars, through our endeavors." She paused, then added, "That's what this room is about--the endeavors that let us get to the stars in the first place. And that wall is about the people who paid the ultimate price to get us there."  
  
"They all died?" Naomi asked, turning back to the wall. It was still paused on the portrait of Valentin Bondarenko; he didn’t seem much older than Icheb or Griff.  
  
"Yes. This young man, he was just 24 years old when he was trapped in a fire in a test chamber. Although he himself never made it into space, his colleagues did--because of what was learned from his death." The docent looked thoughtfully at the picture. "Each of them died in the active service of their space program. Some died on the ground, some in the skies, but each of them died for the same reason--they were reaching for the stars."  
  
Then she gently touched the patch on Naomi's sleeve. "And because they did, you wear this motto without a second thought. You know, I think that would please them."  
  
"They were three brave people," Naomi said quietly.  
  
"Oh, my dear. There were more than three. Computer, resume display."  
  
As Naomi turned, the image of Bondarenko faded and was replaced by an older, dark-haired man. "Virgil 'Gus' Grissom 1926-1967. Mercury 2, Gemini 3. Apollo 1 fire."  
  
One after another, the pictures appeared, then faded away. Michael Smith. Judith Resnick. William McCool. Viktor Patsayev. Francis Scobee. Roger Chaffee. Ronald McNair. Georgi Dobrovolsky. Laurel Clark.  
  
Each name was associated with their successful missions, as well as their final mission. Apollo 1. Soyuz 1. Challenger. Soyuz 11. Columbia.  
  
And still the pictures came. Edward White. Ellison Onizuka. Michael Anderson. Vladislav Volkov. David Brown. Gregory Jarvis. Vladamir Komarov. Rick Husband. Ilan Ramon. Theodore Freeman. Elliot See. Charles Bassett. Clifton Williams. Robert H Lawrence, Jr. Sergei Vozovikov. Michael Alsbury.  
  
The last image faded away, as did the central panel. After a moment's darkness, a final panel appeared in the center of the wall, with nothing but words.

> Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth  
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;  
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth  
Of sun-split clouds--and done a hundred things  
You have not dreamed of--wheeled and soared and swung  
High in the sunlit silence.  
Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung  
My eager craft through footless halls of air.  
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue,  
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace  
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.  
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod  
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,  
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
> 
> _\----RCAF Flight-Lieutenant John Gillespie Magee Jr. (1922-1941)_.

  
The words faded slowly, turning a soft gold before dissolving into glitter that seemed to blow away. It was only when she stood alone in the shadows that Naomi realized there were tears running down her cheeks. She wiped them away, and turned to speak to the docent, but discovered she was alone.  
  
She looked around, but there was no sign of anyone else. The room was again dark and still.  
  
After a moment, Naomi walked through the archway back into the main room. Icheb and Griff had made it exactly one exhibit further than where she had left them. "Hey, guys," she called. "Come on down here."  
  
"What did you find?" Griff asked, with a teasing grin. "The head?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. It's--it's something I think you should see. Something to remember."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: This was written on February 1-2, 2003 and dedicated to the memory of the men and women of the Space Shuttle Columbia, and to the memory of Maj. Michael Keane, USAF; it was also inspired by the National Guadalcanal Memorial at the Kalamazoo Air Zoo Museum in Kalamazoo, Michigan. 
> 
> The author of the poem "High Flight" was Royal Canadian Air Force Flight-Lieutenant John Gillespie Magee Jr. He was killed in a mid-air collision over England on December 11, 1941, during a training flight. Astronaut Michael Collins carried an index card with "High Flight" typed on it during his Gemini 10 flight, and President Ronald Reagan quoted the poem in a speech the night after the Challenger disaster.

**Author's Note:**

> You know the disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom/CBS own the Star Trek franchise, and we acknowledge their sovereignty. We like to borrow the characters to give them something more to do.
> 
> **Up Next: "Sanctuary," by jamelia, and "Altruistic Motives," by Christina, jamelia, and Rocky.**
> 
> **"Sanctuary": **Who communicated with Tuvok and T'Pel before Kathryn Janeway did during "Reconstruction Blues"? Does this have anything to do with the reason the captain was called to Headquarters to meet with Admiral Hayes on January 10, 2381?
> 
> **"Altruistic Motives": **While searching for a new home for her people, a former crew member retraces the early part of the route _Voyager_ took on its journey home. While many planets she visits are unwilling to provide assistance, a few are eager to help--for reasons of their own


End file.
